The Returning
by TheDriftersDaughter
Summary: Finding your way home, is a happy affair, the faces of your past smiling, welcoming you warmly, greeting you with tear-streaked faces? At least that was supposed to happen! This time was not like that. This time coming home was to change everything.
1. Chapter 1

The Returning

Finding your way home, is a happy affair, the faces of your past smiling, welcoming you warmly, greeting you with tear-streaked faces? At least that was supposed to happen! This time was not like that. This time coming home was to change everything.

I thank you, Dear Reader.

This story, while a Harry Potter FanFic cliché, is a story I really wanted to attempt.

Also, just so you know, anything that you recognise I don't own. Even some things you don't recognise are not mine.

I am but an actor in a play,

I am a whisper in the dark,

I am a secret,

I own nothing, claim nothing, and want nothing.

I write for me and am gracious of those who show interest in my imaginings.

Enjoy!

Chapter one: The Ending

Standing silently in the great hall looking into the eyes of the man that had haunted him for an entire lifetime, Harry could not help but feel incomplete. This war forced upon his shoulders was ending and yet something was wrong. Sixteen years ago a peace started. A peace that should have been undisturbed by Voldemort, the creature should have been destroyed. People shouldn't have died. Sirius, Tonks, and Remus, they should be alive. Fred should be here throwing fireworks through windows and spiking lunches. George shouldn't be facing a life missing half of his soul. Lavender should be still with them not amongst the fallen. The war should have stopped. So many things had gone wrong, so many people had died and Voldemort had been the cause. The war seemed miss placed. Harry couldn't describe his understanding. He wouldn't be able to explain where it had derived. Nevertheless, he felt it, he knew the truth of it, and yet, he stood face to face with a man who had defied nature and time.

Harry considered the man in front of him. After all, for all the dabbling and experiments Voldemort had done. The being in front of him was still a man with a past as dark and unwelcoming as any could get. Being abandoned and forgotten. Never finding a place in a cold world that was more than happy to forget, More than pleased to ignore the lost cries that would eventually turn inwards and then silent. The people around them happy to omit to the wrongs they pressed upon them. Yes, Tom and Harry, Harry and Tom, Two lost boys without the comfort of a Neverland.

Harry could see those cold red eyes stare unblinkingly at him as he lowered his wand. Everything was wrong. Everything should be different. A feeling of displacement had always haunted Harry. Not that he had always had a name for the shadow around his heart. Nevertheless, it had been there, always. It was a feeling he found just as comforting as he did foreboding.

When he was younger, it was a feeling he associated with living, trapped, in the dark. It was the fear that he learnt to control. That feeling he thought had disappeared when he had made friends when the world of magic had opened up to him. It wasn't until the third year that he noticed it still resided inside of him. That it was the reason he could never accept the people around him. It was why he always wanted to go on his own.

Their third year had changed so much for him. He had found a person that knew him before he was the boy who lived, a person who woken up his hope. Then everything had ripped away from him and all he had left was that sickly shadow. That night he had lain awake staring at the pressing darkness. He longed for the feeling to subside. He longed to be able to ignore it again but he couldn't. It pressed against him, drowning him slowly.

It was all wrong

Harry watched mesmerised as Tom's mouth curled into a twisted smile. He watched, as he threw his head back in a cold laugh that harry did not hear. He watched as a green glow began to form at the end of the wand. Time had slowed, yet Harry knew that it was only for him. He could see the people around him looked shocked, scared, and worst of all betrayed. The fickle minds of the public swayed once again. They believed he was leaving them, giving up on them. How little they understood. He had died for them, at least he had tried to and it was all for them, for them, the sheep and drones, the public that believed he was a demented storyteller. He had stood, as he was now, in front of the monster that had haunted their dreams and past. He took the curse for them, endured for them and they had lost faith in him so quickly.

No, Harry should not be here. He knew it now.

He belonged somewhere else, Belonged in some other time.

His eyes searched the sea of faces, their features blending into one. Harry searched out his friend, His best friend, the only friend that Harry knew understood him as he understood her. She was there, as always, just to his right the place she had stood their entire magical career. The place he always wanted her to stand. The one that allowed her to offer him extra strength, comfort, and the place that let her watch his back. Ever since Halloween their first year, she had remained by his side. Ever reliable, he should have known significant things happen during Halloween.

He reached his hand out to her and she took it unquestioningly, as always.

Time was immaterial now, as he held her hand. She smiled encouragingly and he turned his back to Tom.

Staring into her eyes, he latched onto the chain around her wrist. The chain she had worn since their third year when they had begun dabbling with time. When they had sat up in the dead of night trying to solve a problem she had. One he never understood until now. This is what she had meant. Now he understood everything she had been trying to tell him. They didn't belong here. Now he knew what he could do to stop the monster, the man, the lost soul that the darkness and evil had eaten away. Voldemort's reign was going to stop sixteen years ago.

He held her tight as their eyes locked onto the chain, the tiny gem glowing blue. He heard her whisper a spell as time speed up and his ears heard the screams of the crowd. He heard Tom's cold laugh. He felt the heat of Tom's spell whip past his cheek as a blinding white light had erupted from the small gem, throwing him into a maze of dizzying colours, and sensations. He felt the earth turn erratically beneath his feet. His lungs compressing until the searing pain became white hot. The feeling of standing still, but forced to move faster than the speed of light disoriented him.

Then as abruptly, as it started everything was still. Everything was quiet.

The dawn glow thrown against the whole stain glassed windows splashed lazily at their feet. He closed his eyes and shook with repressed emotions. He could feel Hermione fall at his feet and start to sob uncontrollably. The eerie morning silence was broken by her jagged breaths, slowly he opened his eyes and stared wide-eyed around him. The tables long broken for him stood gleaming and proud in front of him. The ceiling long lost its enchantment twinkled with the fading stars, and as he watched the dark blue lighten, all he could think of was the witch at his feet.

He lowered himself gently beside her and wrapped his arms around her beaten body. They lay against the rough stone of the great hall and basked in its normality. Her sobs subsided until she hiccupped. Neither said a word. Words weren't needed and the silence was a gift.

They were back. They were home. This was where they belonged.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

I am now TheDriftersDaughter, but I was once BloodRedDaughter as well. I have now united my stories under one banner.

Thanks, Taominx


	2. The Ending

Chapter One: Hogwarts 1976

Harry knew they needed to move. They needed to make plans, though — knowing the witch in his arms — He would hazard a guess that Hermione had probably made several plans with various contingencies attached. He shifted closer to her encasing her small frame fully with his. He didn't want to move. Even though the stones beneath his side were uncomfortable, these moments with Hermione were some of the most relaxing he had been in since the start of their fifth year. There had always been a weight lying on his shoulders alongside the regular worries. Cedric was the start, then Sirius, and then there were too many to count, too many to remember. It was exhausting, a burden that he had carried for the greater good — Harry cringed as the phrase formed in his mind.

The problem with the greater good was that it was too broad, to abstract, and always carried casualties. Logically he knew war carried casualties, that deaths were sometimes inevitable. He knew he could fail just as much here as he could have in the future. He knew one mistake could crumble the world that they had known. However, in this time he was prepared. This time, Voldemort's greatest secret — his key to immortality — was not as fail proof as the man had wished. Harry knew he could end this war before his Parents died.

He felt Hermione shift against him and noticed he had a painfully hard grip of her. She giggled brokenly startling him from his musings he knew it was time to move as he loosened his grip and sighed. They could no longer stay on the cold slate floor. He sat up pulling Hermione with him and sat on the floor beside her. Her small frame still wrapped in his arms. Hermione laid her head against his shoulder and he sighed deeply.

He had no idea how to ask her what the plan was. He had very little idea of where to start or even what they had to start with.

"I think we should head to Hogsmeade," Hermione whispered in the silence. Her voice washing over him like warm water, it gave him hope that she was here with him. He knew in his heart if he were to survive this, he would need her by his side. He pulled her close, kissed her hair and slide away from her getting to his feet holding his hand out to help her from the floor.

She stared up at him her brown eyes duller than before. He nodded at her, it was better than sitting here. They could make a plan and try to blend with everybody. He gently pulled her to her feet and clutched at her hand. He stared at her and noticed how ragged she looked. Dirt, blood, and dust clung to her face and hair. Her clothes were torn and worn. Harry smiled down at her and laughed gently. Judging by the way, Hermione's eyes were darting around his face. He knew he must look just as bad if not worse than she did. They needed to clean up before the headed anywhere

"Shower first?" he asked. She bit her lip and nodded quickly, a small smile forming on her cracked lips. Gathering her bag off the ground he held it out for her, they stood uncertainly in the bright hall. Judging by the sun's position the school's occupants should be roaming around soon. They had to be cautious. Harry pulled his cloak from beneath his robes and covered them both up. He heard her sigh in relief and huddled against his side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they began their slow journey towards a shower.

"Myrtles Bathroom has a shower," Harry suggested in a low whisper.

'Yes, but Myrtle will have to inform Dumbledore of our appearance." She answered quickly. "The fifth floor has three bathrooms, one is for the Prefects. The other two don't get used, since the Professors have their own, as do the heads. We will probably be safer up there"

Harry nodded and guided them towards the main staircase as he passed through the double doors to the main hall he glanced over his shoulder. He felt the ghost of his past fade from him as if he had walked through the thief's downfall again. He looked down at Hermione again and cuddled her tighter, smiling.

Their journey to the fifth floor was relatively uneventful. They passed a couple of the school ghosts floating around the corridors. On the staircase heading from the third to the fourth floor, they almost collided with an unknowing professor. They had to stuff their fists in their mouths as the Professor — neither of them could recognise — stumbled into the trick step at the bottom and swore loudly. It caused the portraits to admonish the young Professor most harshly about his manners. They had to dodge wickedly grinning Peeves on the fourth floor as he loosened a carpet runner, and scurry away from a much younger Filch as he hurried towards the poltergeist.

Finally, they reached the fifth floor and hurried to the end of the west corridor. They slipped cautiously into the bathroom and divested themselves of the cloak. Which, Harry gently hung over the hook on the back of the door. He glanced around interestedly noticing it was a fairly small room holding only three shower stalls along the wall next to the door. Opposite those were benches and to his left were the mirrors and two basins. To his right was a bright stained glass window that portrayed a sleeping dragon. It covered the entire wall allowing the sunlight to fill the room entirely and warming it up quickly.

Hermione waved her wand and Harry felt a wave of gentle magic wash over him. If he had not been so familiar with the advanced locking hex she had used he would never have noticed. He smiled gently at her as she stared at the wand in her hand.

"Mi, are you okay?" she blinked rapidly at him before she smiled gently back and nodded. Dropping her wand next to her beaded bag, she began digging around for some clothes.

"I packed some things that we would need specifically if you lead us into this time." Harry frowned unsure if she was upset with him, but remained silent as she continued. "I have some gold and era-appropriate clothing and if my calculations are correct —;"

"Like they usually are," Harry grinned cheekily.

Hermione grinned at him over her shoulder "Yes, we should be somewhere in nineteen seventy-six"

Harry laughed, "So my father will be younger than me?"

Hermione frowned "I guess so" she shrugged "he would be about sixteen."

Harry gasped for air "I I I I'tssss…..NnnNot reeeeally Funnnny but….." he slapped his hand against his stomach and arched backwards slightly as his laughter swept through him again.

She giggled at her friend glad to see him laughing so much. "No, not really funny" she shimmied out of her torn jeans and threw her destroyed shirt to the other end of the bathroom.

"It's kind of unreal" Harry sighed, his laughter still etched on his face. "Magic is truly astounding"

Hermione giggled nodding her head as she picked up two towels and made her way to him. "It is. Despite the war, it's been the best thing to happen to me."

She handed him a towel and wrapped her arms around his waist. He returned the hug ignoring her bare skin as much as he could. He had seen her body plenty of times. Sharing a tent for the better half of a year was bound to change their relationships slightly. However, he was still a teenage boy and try as he might his mind was very aware of how naked and soft she was.

"I don't know about you but I could really use a shower" She joked. He squeezed her gently and dropped his arms letting her pull away from him. "You could use one too, Potter, You stink" with that she darted into the shower cackling like Peeves. He repressed a growl and walked into the next cubical. He divested the robes he wore over his tattered shirt. It stuck to him in places where the falling debris and closely avoided curses had left open wounds. He tore the too big pants from his legs and stripped off his ruined underwear. He heard the water next to him turn on and the soft sigh of pleasure next door. He shuddered as his mind reminded him inappropriately of her nakedness before. He shook his head violently and smiled as he stepped under the shower head.

He sighed, much the same way as Hermione, as the water cascaded down his body. Closing his eyes, he stood completely still allowing the warm water to loosen the knots that had formed in his muscles.

Soon flashes of the past twenty-four hours passed behind his eyes. He saw the faces of those he lost and the things they had survived. He watched helplessly as the war carried out in his mind, his emotions wheeling out of control. He slapped his hand against the stone wall and hiccupped, swallowing the sobs that worked its way up his throat. He opened his eyes quickly and scrubbed at his body, hoping that it would stop the images and the inevitable pain. He tangled his fingers into his hair and viciously scrubbed the dirt from his locks. He wanted to forget but knew he wouldn't be able to. Those images would haunt his dreams and thoughts for the rest of his life. He knew the pain would lesson. He had lived a hard life once. Repeating it should be easier, and in ways, it would be harder. He knew that if he were to witness a death now he would feel it more severe than before. He came to stop the Dark Lord not witness more tragedies.

"Stop it, Harry!"

He jumped as the harsh tone Hermione's voice had adopted broke through his despair.

"I can feel you falling apart over here" Hermione spoke softly but with a hint of fierceness that shook him.

"Can't help it," He mumbled, she laughed hollowly.

"I know Harry, that's why you have me. We can survive if we have each other."

He smiled gently and shook his head.

"We have so far, Mi."

He shut the water off and wrapped the soft towel around his waist. Stepping out into the main bathroom he glanced at himself in the mirror, he had to cringe.

He was clean now but he could see several cuts on his back and arms that would need tending too. He also had a cut down his cheek and a new scar on his chest. He rested his fingers against the risen flesh that nestled next to the raw oval shape the Horcrux had left and stared coldly at the jagged mark. It wasn't as clean as the one on his forehead but he could just make out the shape of a lightning bolt. He doubted anyone else would.

He heard Hermione's cubical open behind him and watched as she exited only in a towel.

She smiled at him in the mirror and moved towards her wand. He shifted away from the mirror back towards her. He hadn't even realised he had moved closer to the mirrors as he examined the new scar.

"We will have to heal up a bit before getting dressed." He nodded and watched fascinated as her fingers danced over his back. He sighed and relaxed further as she pushed him onto the bench beside him before she began moving her wand in tight circles over his cuts. He watched her work silently. It was always amazing to watch Hermione work with Magic. She looked so at ease with herself, so natural.

He smiled as he remembered it hadn't always been that way. During the first couple of years at Hogwarts, she always looked a little worse for wear when she would cast. He knew that McGonagall Had pulled her aside and explained that most people worked with their magic, but sometimes a person would come along with a lot of power and would try to force it to work for them.

Magic didn't work like that, Magic was a living essence. Magic required respect. It was more than willing to work with a person as long as that person understood that it was a balance between being and magic. Magic had to flow like water. Not be restricted. It was the reason that blocks on magic never worked. There was always seepage.

When she was younger, Hermione had been subconsciously aware of the vast amount of magic she could access. This led her to try to force her magic and while it would work, it would become uncontrollable. Frizzing her hair and causing her emotions to escalate. Her mind would become erratic. Her body had suffered huge amounts of stress and pressure. If left Hermione would have damaged herself and her magic irreversibly.

"Harry?"

He glanced up at her and smiled.

"I need to get to your cheek," she smiled down at him as she gently took hold of his chin. "Now, don't move."

He smirked at her tone, so reminiscent of Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes, Ma'am!" She grimaced and began to mutter under her breath as she began to seal his wound.

He felt a sharp sting and laughed. He knew she had done that on purpose. Healing charms only stung if there was an infection or the healer was callous enough to negate the numbing process. Healing charms are created around a numbing spell. This way the healers didn't have to spend extra seconds to get the same result.

She smirked and handed her wand to him. The action causing him to realise he had no wand of his own.

"I know!" she whispered. "It will be the first thing we do once we find ourselves somewhere to stay."

He nodded gratefully and pulled her down next to him she shrieked in surprise and glared at him causing them both to laugh happily. He pulled her back against his chest as he began to work on the slices on her arms. She didn't have many, which he was grateful.

She sighed and leant further into his warmth.

"Where do you think we should stay?" he asked when he had finished.

"I don't know, Harry. I don't have a lot of gold. It would be helpful if we could get in touch with The Order. But I'm afraid of what they may do." He nodded in his own mind he was cautious about approaching The Order. What they were doing is against the law.

"There would be someone who would be approachable?" she shrugged in response and sighed heavily.

"I don't know Harry we would have to know who was in it."

Harry stared at the wall in front of him trying to think.

"I hate thinking we can't approach Dumbledore" Harry nodded in agreement with her. "Dumbledore would not be overly enthused about it."

"What about the marauders?" Harry asked, "They have already broken the law, gone against Dumbledore and family's alike,"

"Yes they have, but what about Wormtail?" Hermione asked.

Harry paled as he thought of that traitor being so close to his family.

"We should just feed him to Fang and be done with it."

Hermione snorted and thumped harry on the arm.

"What?" he asked in mock concern

"We can't do that, Harry" she smiled coyly at him "He might make Fang sick"

He laughed and shrugged. "In return, I'll buy Fang a dozen dragon meat steaks"

Hermione giggled before extracting herself from his arms.

"Come on Harry it's already eight and we have no idea what day it is" He shrugged again and stood. Reaching forward for the pile of clean clothes. He pulled on a pair of well-fitted dark grey trousers. It was strange to be in clothes that fit him instead of being several sizes too big.

"We can leave on the third floor or the second." She said as she watched him dress.

"I think the old humped Witch would be the best option," he said, as he took the shirt she was holding out. "You look good by the way," he said, she smiled beautifully at him and nodded.

"I agree"

He glanced at her for a second and watched as her smirk grew

"About you looking nice or leaving on the third floor?" she shrugged happily and cleaned up after them both.

"Either, both." He nodded and grabbed the cloak from the door. He held it out to her and they both huddled beneath it. Silently she lifted the lock and they swiftly left. The corridor was blissfully empty. They hurried down towards the stairs being careful to move quietly. The fourth floor held a couple of Ravenclaws making their way towards the great hall. It was obviously a school day as they all had their books and bags with them. However, they were Ravenclaws you could never truly be sure.

They followed them sticking to the wall and hunching uncomfortable in order to avoid exposing their feet. On the third floor, they moved slower. Most of the school seemed to be moving around on this floor much to their displeasure.

Before they made it to the witch's hump, Harry and Hermione had to huddle directly against the wall in order to avoid a group of unruly boys tossing a Quaffle between them. They watched as the boys pushed and bumped the students around them. Shuffling around the bystanders like dodging players on an opposing Quidditch team. They ducked and weaved, yelled and jeered, and bounced around everyone.

Most people growled or yelled at them. Some laughed and temporarily joined into the chaotic game of keep-away.

Hermione gripped Harry's hand tightly in her hand. They knew those boys they knew them by the stories shared by Sirius. Harry felt his eyes prickle has he watched two dark haired boys laugh carelessly. He smiled as he watched their sandy-haired friend as he goofed around and apologised for his unruly friends. Harry felt his heart quicken, the boys were nearly level with them. For the first time in his short life, Harry was about to see and hear his father.

He gripped Hermione hard, his breaths coming shallow as the boys drew level. He watched as his father roared like a lion behind a couple of girls, who squealed and broke down into giggles. Harry smiled as Sirius tackled his father. Jumping on his back demanding the boy "mush", Harry felt light and happy. He felt safe even knowing what waited for him, for them all outside the castle. In that moment, Harry felt safer than he had ever felt.

He could feel Hermione against his side shaking in mirth. He himself had to restrain himself. He watched Remus scoop the forgotten Quaffle off the ground, tip his imaginary hat to the still giggling girls, and holler after the rogue marauders.

Harry watched the boys until they disappeared around the corner before he sighed loudly. Thankfully, most of the students had already left the corridor and those that hadn't - they were still young enough not to question a disembodied voice. Hermione tugged at his shirt, drawing Harry's eyes from the corner that his father had disappeared from sight. He followed her silently as she led them towards the one-eyed witch.

Harry was silent their entire trek through the underground tunnel. Hermione kept her eye on him. She knew that this trip was bound to be difficult for Harry. She could only imagine how disarming it could be. Seeing the people, he loved and never got to know, all of them alive and well. She took his hand in silence and felt his tension in his grip.

The trip seemed to take hours when finally they arrived at the trap door. This seemed to wake Harry up. He raised his wand and held his hand in a way she recognised as a silent order to stay where she was until he had ascertained there were no immediate threats to them. She barely breathed as she watched him stalk up the stairs. His body crouched and wand ready. She watched as he slowly raised the trap down his shoulders never relaxing and his back muscles rolling. For a minute, he listened before signalling the all clear. She sighed heavily and hurried to his side where he re-wrapped the invisibility cloak around them and pulled her close to him.

Perfectly synchronised with each other, the slunk from the tunnel and silently closed the trap door. They stood silently listening to the store above them. Hearing nothing, they crept through the shadows towards the basement door. They could hear a couple of voices just behind the door. Harry pulled her against the wall silently they tried to hear the conversation but found the voices too low. Hermione felt a spell wash over them and raised an eyebrow, but never said a word. She felt Harry shift and watched as he reached for the door handle. She held her breath as he slid it open carefully an inch. She huddled closer against as him as he strained to hear the conversation. She felt his hand clamp down on her side and she readied herself.

In moments, he had pulled her through the door, and she whimpered against his side.

The store was dark and through the front windows, she could see the moon washed high street of Hogsmeade. Directly in front of her, she could see the night clothed back of the patron. His arms pinned to his side by two figures dressed in black and a third, also in black, pacing in front of them. In front of herself, she could see a discarded wand lying on top of the counter. Her eyes darted back towards the men in front of her and felt her stomach clench as she watched the death eater cast a sickly yellow spell at the patron. She watched, horrified, as he threw his head back and convulsed for a few seconds before she saw his body fall limp and strain against his restraints.

She felt Harry stiffen against her and he raised her wand still encased in the invisibility cloak. She heard him mutter a spell and the windows behind the death eaters exploded outwards covering the street with glass. Surprised, the death eater facing them spun around, his wand raised readily in front of him. The other two dropped the man between them and mimicked his pose.

Again Harry raised her wand and muttered this time a horrid screeching sounded through the village causing the Villages to awaken in fright. Yet, the death eaters remained calm and alert. Hermione watched as they separated and took cover waiting for an attack. Hermione acted on instinct swiftly gathering the wand sitting in front of her up and taking aim at one of the dark figures, stunning him silently. She watched as two red spells collided with two of the three death eaters, Harry stunning the other one with another silent stunner. The red glare lighting up the store and the glassy-eyed patron momentarily, before the store sunk back into darkness.

The third death eater spun quickly and begun to sling spells haphazardly, towards the back of the store. Harry and Hermione ducked behind the counter as spells hit the door behind them scorching and splintering the wood.

As quickly as the spells came they stopped and they could hear the death eater stalk through the chaos. Harry pulled the cloak off them and Hermione turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

Harry smiled cockily and kissed her cheek. Before she could take another breath he had scuttled over the counter and swiftly ducked to the side, all the while throwing spells towards the death eater, taking him by surprise as she heard him stumble and swear before more colours erupted in the darkness. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she braced her back against the counter and slide in the opposite direction as Harry.

She felt the edge of the counter on her shoulder and turned to take in the sight of the duel. She watched as Harry and the death eater ducked and weaved between displays. Silently she Accio-ed the unconscious patron to her and pulled his body behind the counter. In the distance, she could hear the village doors slam open and the incoherent sounds of yelling voices and running feet. She left the patron safe behind the counter and took aim at the death eater. She took a deep breath and waited for an opening.

Harry spun and flicked the ice like spell towards the front door. The death eater in front of him already whipping more spells back at him. He ducked a purple spell, shielded against a blue one, and spun on his toes. Taking cover behind a display of ice mice as the spells shattered around him. Taking a breath, he sent a Bombarda spell to the left of the death eater, he saw it make contact and explode, Showering the Death eater with flaming chocolates and debris. Before he ducked again and slid across the floor towards the door, scattering the fallen sweets and distracting the death eater further. He braced his hands against the wood of a display and using his momentum he pushed himself from the floor quickly and dodged another spell.

He shielded again and his foot slipped in the melted chocolate. He tried to gain his balance quickly but he felt his skin tear and smelt the stench of burning flesh before he felt the searing pain in his side. The death eater cackled and Harry screamed in pain. His eyesight blurring as his glasses flew from his eyes. He collided heavily with the wall and slid to the ground as his legs gave way. The throbbing in his side ate away at his consciousness. He raised Hermione's wand feebly, it wavered in his hand before his arm gave out and the wand clattered to the ground at his side. He heard the death eater stalk closer and tried to scramble out of the way only to find his back to a wall. He compressed the wound on his side, but still, the blood pumped over his fingers and splattered to the floor.

Hermione took her shot. The death eater was in the open and she wasted no time. She didn't know what she had cast, all she knew was Harry was injured bad, he never screamed when cursed.

When the snatchers had captured them, they had forced her to watch as he had taken Crucio curse after Crucio and still no sound had escaped his throat. She had screamed when she had suffered under the same curse. The screaming had torn her throat so bad she needed a week to recover her voice. Yet Harry had remained silent. The only indication of his pain was in the rigidness of his muscles.

Her heart hammered against her ribs and in silence, she watched the death eater crumble. She scurried frantically from her spot beside the counter, sliding and tripping her way towards Harry. She saved no thought for the death eater as she passed by his choking form. She only had eyes for Harry, his hand pressed hard against his side as his blood gushed from the wound. She slid in next to him on her knees jostling him against the wall. Causing him to groan and cringe in pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm Sorry," her voice was panicked but her head was clear. She had to stop the bleeding. She took Harry's wrist and gingerly pulled his hand away from his body. The blood splashed against the floor as Harry's hand came away. Hurriedly she began counter spell after counter spell to stitch the wound together, but it wouldn't work and Harry Became paler and Paler. Around her, Hermione could feel the heat of Harry's bombarda curse get hotter as the flames grew wilder and outside she heard multiple voices cast the Aquamenti charm. Even as she heard the torrents of water hiss as it met the flames. She kept casting spells on harry. Still, nothing was working and Harry's breathing was getting weaker. In the back of her mind, she could her Poppy the ever-doting matron scream at her. However, Hermione was out of charms. Magic it seemed wouldn't work. In desperation, she dug into her beaded bag drawing out a dishevelled jumper. In its folds, she found the bottle of Dittany. She poured some on the wound. Hoping, but the blood continued to spew from the wound it a darker shade of red than before.

She screamed in frustration and begged Harry to wake up. She cursed his stupidity and bargained with him. She promised - years ago - to always help him and now she was watching his very life as it fled from his body in bloody spurts. She screamed again and gathered his body in her arms. The blood and fire around her reflecting the chaos within her, from out of nowhere a thought struck.

An image rippled in her mind, a memory from years before _._

 ** _Mr Weasley propped up in bed with the remains of his turkey dinner on a tray on his lap and a rather sheepish expression on his face._**

 _"_ ** _Everything all right, Arthur?" asked Mrs Weasley, after they had all greeted Mr Weasley and handed over their presents._**

 _"_ ** _Fine, fine," said Mr Weasley, a little too heartily. "You — err — haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"_**

 _"_ ** _No," said Mrs Weasley suspiciously, "why?"_**

 _"_ ** _Nothing, nothing," said Mr Weasley airily, starting to unwrap his pile of gifts. "Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry - this is absolutely wonderful!" For he had just opened Harry's gift of fuse-wire and screwdrivers._**

 ** _Mrs Weasley did not seem entirely satisfied with Mr Weasley's answer. As her husband leant over to shake Harry's hand, she peered at the bandaging under his nightshirt._**

 _"_ ** _Arthur," she said, with a snap in her voice like a mousetrap, "you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."_**

 _"_ ** _What?" said Mr Weasley, looking rather frightened and pulling the bed covers higher up his chest. "No, no - it's nothing - it's -I-"_**

 ** _He seemed to deflate under Mrs Weasley's piercing gaze._**

 _"_ ** _Well - now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea… he's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in… um… complementary medicine… I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies… well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on - on Muggle wounds -"_**

Hermione could have laughed if she wasn't so worried. She looked at the ratty jumper in her hand and cast hurriedly. Reducing it to a pile of cotton, next she took hold of a small shard of wood and turned it into a curved needle. She didn't bother sterilising the equipment, it was more imperative that she save Harry. Diligently she began gathering the edges of the wound together. Quickly she stitched. She ignored the hot tears as they streaked down her face, she just kept on stitching Harry groaning each time she pierced his skin with the sharp needle. Slowly the bleeding began to stop and Harry lay silent beside her, despite her mounting worry, she kept stitching, praying to everyone — anyone — to aid her.

As the last fire extinguished under the villager's ministrations, she hurriedly dressed Harry's wound and gathered her to him again. She had to get him out of there. She had no way of explaining how they got into a locked and secure store. Let alone who they were. Looking around she threw the wand in her hand towards the counter and scooped her blood stained one up. She could hear the villagers climbing through the windows and knew she only had seconds to get out unseen. She took a deep breath and prayed again before closing her eyes and apparating out of Hogsmeade.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The Villagers of Hogsmeade descended upon the sweet shop with haste, they could see the spells being cast and the splashes of colours dance over the cobblestones. The war had been raging for eight years and yet Lord Voldermort and his Death Eaters never openly attacked Hogsmeade, its proximity to Albus Dumbledore had always warranted caution from the Death Eaters. The Village had been one of the only untouched towns since the war started.

And yet, here they were hurrying in the dead of night towards an icon of the village and a favourite establishment to youths all over the British Isles. Many people were yelling and yet everyone heard the scream of pain that echoed through the streets. Women hurried to each other's doors ushering children in front of them and fluing the ministry in hopes of gaining help, while others gathered potions and medical supplies. One young dark haired man sprinted towards the gate of Hogwarts, nobody knew what he was doing, but many younger Villages followed him hoping to find safety on the grounds of the school, others to help and guard and some because they were following a crowd.

When the others gathered outside the burning building, they cried out as more screaming erupted from inside. They could see a couple of figures through the haze and wreckage, sterner minds in the group began casting water on the flames in hopes of helping those inside the building. Those that could, began to shift the rubble from the windows and cleaning areas out for people to approach and enter the building. They worked quickly, but the flames were getting worse. They Villagers that were shifting stones began adding their own Aquamenti charms. They gathered more and more people as the Professors of Hogwarts hurried towards the building. Lead by the Dark haired youth, Albus Dumbledore behind him. In seconds, the last fire extinguished and a small group hurried into the building.

Inside the building was chaos, the ground was littered with rubble and brightly coloured sweets. The walls splatter with spell marks and flame scorches. The roof, almost completely been burnt through, and a smattering of stars winked down at them. The first body the found they hurried through the shattered windows and straight into the arms of the newly arrived Aurors. The second body they left in a pile of bloody rags, the stout man that found him reduced to heaving just outside the building. The third gained the same treatment much as the first one.

Finally, they came across the body of Mr Flume, the owner of Honeydukes. His body badly beaten and his eyes glazed from the exposure of the amount of Crucios he had endured. At once, he was ushered towards the Matron of Hogwarts, whom hurriedly began tending to his wounds, barking out orders to the others that tried to help her.

Albus Dumbledore watched as they entered the building, he hurried forward. Agilely, he sprung through a window just in time to see two figures apparate away. He frowned at the amount of blood beneath his feet. Obviously, the injury the mystery duo had sustained was urgent. This struck the Headmaster as odd. If the injury had been that grave, why not wait for help. If they were friendly and if they were Death Eaters, surely then, Mr Flume alone should not have been a threat. The owner of Honeydukes lived alone at the back of his shop. He had no pets and nobody would have been the wiser. So why had they left in such a way?

"Albus?" He never acknowledged his colleague, but years of working together had honed their understanding of each other. "Albus, there was only three Death Eaters removed from here, as was Mr Flume." Professor McGonagall approached the headmaster quickly.

She startled when she saw what had captured his attention. The sheer amount of blood in that corner, and the scuff and scurry marks had her on edge. She fingered her wand and stiffened by the Headmasters side.

"Albus, whose —;"

"I do not know, Minerva" he sighed and spared her a look. "I would seem they had been in a hurry to leave."

"But, Surely, Albus nobody could survive such a wound, should there not be a body lying here. I could hardly see Mr Flume causing such a wound, even on a Death Eater."

"I heartily agree, Minerva, perhaps we should go see to those we can actually help then?"

He turned and led her from the corner, hoping the best for the wounded person and that they were in fact on the light side of this war.


End file.
